I have been observing May 6 – Willie Mays’ birthday – ever since I learned the date, probably from the back of one of his baseball cards. (Wish I had that card today.) My love for the Say Hey Kid made me a San Francisco Giants fan, and a rebel in a family of Phillie fanatics. But even they admired the way he played the game, which was not just with preternatural skill and talent but with an infectious, boyish joy. Mays, who died in 2024, would have been 95 today.
